


Last Café

by uberimmortal



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol, All triggers from AFTG apply just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Dating, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, Have you noticed I suck at tags, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, LMAO, Multi Chapter, Mutual Pinning, This fic is about Renee&Allison, go on give me a read hahahah, maybe some sexy times? Idk yet I’ll let you know before, no exy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uberimmortal/pseuds/uberimmortal
Summary: Like every weekend for the past year, Renee finds herself on a Saturday morning in front of the Last Cafe. She takes a deep breath, key still in her hand, shivering from the autumn breeze as she tries to muster up some energy to open the door. The sun is just beginning to poke over the horizon, lighting up the city in a blue haze, not close enough to this side of the earth to provide any real warmth. One by one street lamps flicker until they turn off completely.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Kudos: 11





	Last Café

Like every weekend for the past year, Renee finds herself on a Saturday morning in front of the Last Cafe. She takes a deep breath, key still in her hand, shivering from the autumn breeze as she tries to muster up some energy to open the door. The sun is just beginning to poke over the horizon, lighting up the city in a blue haze, not close enough to this side of the earth to provide any real warmth. One by one street lamps flicker until they turn off completely. 

Downtown Chicago was at a standing point, where the nightlife meets the start of an ordinary day. There are others opening their business on Willow Avenue, all hoping for someone to purchase an overpriced jacket, order a meal that is not quite satisfying, or pick out a bundle of wild flowers. Traffic is just beginning to flow. Horns are blaring on freeways, tires are screeching. Until Renee moved she never believed the saying “cities never sleep.” 

Already, Renee is tired from walking through unshoveled sidewalks and dealing with ice hidden underneath packed snow. Although her boots are thick and well made, both of her socks are still slightly damp. She hunches her shoulders, burrowing her nose under a checkered scarf as best she can. Through the window, she spots a coffee pot on the counter, still full to the brim. A cloud from her breath fogs up the glass. She quickly wipes it away with the sleeve of her coat and looks for anything else she might have forgotten to clean the night before. 

Reassured that only one pot was left out, she twisted the key. A bell rang when the door swung open and locked behind her. She soaks in the warmth, shaking off the snow on her boots before removing them. There’s a coat rack to her left that she has never used before, even though she always says she might in the future just for the sake of it. Her coat is heavy as it is shrugged off her shoulders. While she walks towards the counter, boots in one hand and coat in the other, she holds the scarf up to her numb face. Her hot breath tickled her skin and she allowed her shoulders to relax. 

Last Cafe is well loved by its owners, employees, and customers. On the windows ghosts and skeletons are painted in celebration of Halloween. Local artists are always asked to create whatever they want on the glass. Each week there’s something different: cartoons, landscapes, politics, doodles, or simply poems or song lyrics. 

Clearly, that artist had been enthralled by the holiday spirit and provided their own Halloween lights to really set the scene. At first, Renee disliked the lights that danced from orange to red. The longer she stared at them, the slower they seemed to alter colors and frankly it was distracting. She would find herself counting each time the lights would change when she really should be wiping off tables or sweeping crumbs out from under the display case. Children loved the view though, completely amazed by the jolly skeletons and flying ghosts. They would stop their parents just to stare. Renee concluded that the lights were not a bad idea after all. 

There were plants everywhere. They hung from the ceiling and each table had its own potted succulent. During the summer flowers of all sorts bloomed on the window sill, inviting bees and other little critters to spend their afternoon nestled in the delicate petals. Whenever a shift was particularly slow, Renee would take a book from the shelves no one cared enough to look at and sit by the flowers, listening to the buzzing bees as she read. Although now during the cold fall, she would listen to the snow crunching under people’s shoes. 

Every inch of the wall was covered by anything the owners found interesting. Old photos of people they’ve never met, photos of the crew, newspaper clippings, railroad signs, book covers, records, foreign money, an old bicycle which hung from the ceiling, license plates, etc. One year later and Renee was still finding new things to look at.

Renee flipped a switch near the display case. Electricity hummed and then the cafe's lights came on. The ceiling fan started to spin, Renee was quick to turn it off. She pushed the office sliding door open, an employee's only sign fell to the floor.

The office was more like a modified closet next to the kitchen. There was a single desk with a worn out spinning chair. A file cabinet containing everyone’s applications, food handler cards, customer complaints, bills, checks, and whatever else the owners deemed important. Above the monitor was a cat calendar. This month a bundle of kittens were dressed up as pumpkins. Renee took a permanent marker and drew a line in the 13th square. She tapped one end on the 14th, then capped the marker. 

Most of the employees, like Renee, kept a spare pair of work shoes in the office during the winter. She flopped into the chair, spinning around to grab her black sneakers. With a sigh, she dropped her boots on the tiny shoe rack and flung her coat over the chair. A doubled hook held up a few aprons in case someone forgot their own. Renee grabbed a black one instead of the navy blue, identifying herself as a manager. She slipped the loop over her head, tied the string around her waist, and slid a few pens in the front pocket. 

She cleaned out the coffee pot as she waited for the computer to boot up. Once the cursor was blinking for a password, she kneeled on the chair and quickly typed in the random letters and numbers. Multiple tabs popped open right away. She scanned through yesterday’s sales, putting together an estimate of how much they should expect today, and clocked herself in for her shift. There wasn’t much left to do on the computer until after closing so she turned off the monitor.

The kitchen was in the back of the cafe. Renee pushed the door open with her shoulder, and jammed a door stop under it so it wouldn’t swing obnoxiously. The fridge, commonly called the walk-in, was a small storage space used for all of the milk, eggs, cheese, deli meats, fruit and vegetables, employees food, and whatever else that needed to be kept cold.

They had two ovens, a sink meant for washing and another strictly for sanitizing, a kneading table, a proving cabinet, three stand mixers, a stove with five cooktops and even a grill that they used to toast bread for sandwiches. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling. Cookie sheets, cake pans, cupcake molds, etc. were stored next to the ovens. The back exit led to an alleyway, where the dumpsters and employees parking were. Dry ingredients were in the pantry next to the sink. They had every kind of nut, flour, sugar, yeast, oat, chocolate, anything and everything. 

Renee washed her hands for twenty seconds and rubbed sanitizer into her skin. Two bowls of dough were left overnight in the walk-in. She carried them to the kneading table and pulled off the saran wrap. Renee sprinkled some flour over the counter top. She cracked her fingers, enjoying the satisfying pops and went to work. 

The dough felt plush and soft underneath her fingers as she gently pulled the edges and folded them in the center. Cupping her hands, she formed the dough into a tight ball, then flipped it over so the smooth side was on top. She repeated this again with the second dough while the oven and Dutch ovens preheated.

As soon as Renee pulled out the Dutch ovens and set them on the stove, she heard the front door bell ring. Heavy footsteps echoed in the lobby. Renee ignored the noise since most of her attention was on the smoldering hot metal. 

Transferring the dough to parchment paper was tricky. Carefully, Renee removed both lids and lifted each paper until they were safely inside the pots. She covered them once more, returned them to the oven, and set the timer for thirty minutes. 

Renee dropped the bowls into the sink to wash later. Besides there was still plenty more to do before opening. She had to start the cakes, and the scones, also the–

“You’re here.”

Renee stopped, hand gripping the walk-in’s handle. She spoke without looking back, “It's going to be busy.”

Cold air wafted out when the heavy door opened. Renee hurried to grab the milk, eggs, and butter. Using a balancing act she had perfected, she walked backwards until the door hit her back and pushed it open. 

Andrew stood in front of the oven, peering through the glass with an empty expression, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. Renee looked him over once. He wore their uniform, which only had to be jeans, some type of black top, an apron and closed toed shoes. Unlike Renee and the plain black tee shirt she wore almost daily, Andrew picked out a thin sweater that was two sizes too big. Black fabric poked out from the sleeves, hiding the bands that covered his forearms. A dark blue scrunchy held up his hair in a bun, although two pieces must have been forgotten as they framed his face. Andrew looked up and their eyes locked.

Renee quickly looked away and ignored his questioning stare. She dropped the ingredients on the kneading table despite the small cloud of flour that coated her apron. 

Saturday’s and Sunday’s were always the busiest days of the week. Renee didn’t lie. Dozens of students from the nearby university seemed to come right around noon up until closing, looking for good coffee and a quiet scene to either get over their hangovers or finish assignments that were due the night before. On Sundays there would be flocks of elders still dressed in their church clothes with their grandchildren, who had clearly slept through the whole sermon and only came for the food afterwards. 

Men dressed in suits and women in pencil skirts were the regulars. There was a rather large office building only a block away. They came in pairs or usually alone. Those who were the most sleep deprived ordered coffee, black, and promptly sat in the stools near the window where they typed on their laptops for hours at a time. They never held a conversation with anyone, not even with each other. Still, they tipped more than the religious groups and students combined, so there was always a fresh pot of joe waiting for them. 

Renee felt Andrew’s gaze from the oven as she mixed the necessary ingredients in a large bowl, using her own experience to gage how much of what was needed. 

“Are you going to help, or just stand there?” Renee asked, turning to give Andrew an annoyed look that held no heat. 

Andrew rolled his eyes, “White or dark?”

“Milk,” Renee pressed a rubber spatula into the bowl, squashing the butter and sugar. 

As Andrew passed Renee to grab the chocolate from the walk-in, Renee tensed, clenching her jaw and momentarily freezing. There was no particular reason, just an overwhelming anxiety of being alone any longer. Before she had the chance to do anything about it, Andrew let the door close behind him. 

Renee breathed through her nose. The bowl forgotten under her hands. She watched the door until it opened, then returned her attention to the creamy butter and sugar mixture before Andrew caught her panic.

“Did you eat?” Andrew asked bluntly as he dropped a decently sized bar of milk chocolate on the counter. 

Warmth burned in Renee’s chest at Andrew’s question. “No,” she said rather abruptly, effectively diminishing that flickering flame along with Andrew’s question. 

Andrew hummed, unphased, “Eggs? Toast?”

“I want to get this done,” Renee sighed a satisfying sigh at the loud crack the egg made as it smacked the side of the bowl.

“Toast,” Andrew nodded. 

They fell into their comfortable routines. Andrew, despite Renee arguing she wasn’t hungry, toasted two slices of white bread in the toaster oven. As he waited, he poured them both a glass of tap water, which Renee drank as soon as Andrew put it down. He said nothing, since he only spoke when necessary, or when he wanted to engage in Renee’s banter.

Their mornings were always the same; arguing over breakfast until Andrew would whip something up for the two of them. They both didn’t sleep well, they knew this although never fully discussed it. Renee was more prone to wander the city after hours of sitting in bed before coming to work early. Andrew, on the other hand, stayed late after their shifts ended so he wouldn’t have to go home.

With the muffin mix finished and in the oven, Renee took a spare moment to eat the perfectly toasted bread. She watched Andrew lean back on the kneading table, only a mere foot away. A glob of marshmallow puff hung over his crust. Renee cringed at the sight. 

“Want some?” Andrew asked. He held the toast up to his mouth and licked the glob off. 

He was teasing, Renee knew that, but still she thought it was disgusting. 

“I’d rather be a normal person,” Renee said. 

Her own toast was covered in a thin layer of peanut butter and jelly. Andrew seemed to know the perfect ratio which Renee preferred. Andrew scoffed at Renee’s response, a small huff of air through his nostrils. 

After they finished their small breakfast, Renee washed her hands once more and Andrew cleaned up the crumbs. They moved around each other seamlessly, always knowing where the other was without having to look. Andrew did most of the heavy lifting. He may be short, but he could bench press twice his weight easily so hauling bags of flour was no issue. They slapped the counter when he tossed them. Renee flinched each time.

Not so long ago, a bag had ripped open and covered Andrew in flour. Andrew hadn’t said a word at the time, just walked to the restroom and didn’t come out until opening. The whole shift Renee would clean a trail of flour that followed Andrew wherever he went. Clearly, he hadn’t learned his lesson. 

Andrew prepared the bread dough they would bake for lunch. Renee mixed a pumpkin pie cookie mix. After an hour and a half, the cafe was full of sweet smells of pumpkin, chocolate, cinnamon, raspberry, coffee, etc. Andrew took his time plating everything up and carrying them to the display case. Renee secretly loved to see how he would organize things each morning.

The cakes always seemed to go on the top shelf since they were piped by Andrew himself. He had a steady hand and delicate eye. Whenever a customer ordered a slice of his cakes, Renee caught a small gleam of pride as he folded the away box carefully. 

Scones, muffins, cake pops, cookies, pastries, and even tarts went on the second shelf, laid out in such a way that made even the most deformed scone seem delectable. On the bottom shelf were loafs of bread, still handled with care but the least appealing thing to look at. Renee sliced intricate patterns with a thin blade on each dome once Andrew finished with the dough. Andrew never wanted to do it and Renee didn’t mind. 

At nine a.m. the cafe was ready to open. Renee unlocked the door at the same time Andrew pulled the string on the open sign. The blue and red lights lit up the glass window, flashing every so often. Music played gently from a speaker in each corner. Whenever Andrew was working he chose the playlist and no one fought him on it. He seemed to prefer classical, although the few times Renee had accepted a ride home from him she knew that he enjoyed every other genre the same amount.

Just as Renee predicted, employees from the office building swarmed to the Last Cafe like moths to a flame. Renee took their orders. Andrew hustled behind the counter making their drinks, only having to glance at Renee's messy cursive once and knowing exactly how many pumps of caramel they wanted, what type of milk, what size, and if they preferred their coffee iced, hot or blended. With precision Renee snatched up the food each person pointed at, smudging the glass with their fingers. She sealed the paper bags with a round sticker that said “Enjoy!”

Around ten o’clock, the small rush started to die down. They both took the few minutes of relative silence to clean and prepare for another. At nine thirty, a group of three very tired college students dragged their way inside. They shivered, taking in the warmth and brushing of the snow from their shoulders. They ordered the smallest coffee possible, twelve ounces, and a cookie for each of them. They still left a tip in the jar despite obviously not having a lot of money. Huddled together in a corner table near the window, Andrew carried them their drinks. All three blushed as he did, thanking him.

Renee smiled at him when he returned to the counter. “That was nice,” she said. 

Andrew glared at her. Anyone else might have felt severely uncomfortable, but Renee only laughed. Andrew flipped her off and disappeared in the office to drink his second coffee of the day.

More and more people began to show up closer to noon. Renee left the kitchen door open so the scent from Andrew’s bread baking could be smelled from the lobby. Customers ordered more food than coffee, sitting down at the tables. Tourists smiled as they pointed at whatever caught their attention on the walls. They took pictures, left disappointing tips, and went off to continue their vacations. 

Lunch was almost over. Renee carried a rag to empty tables to wipe them down with sanitizer when the bell rang. She quickly looked up, her heart already beating a little faster. 

A blonde young woman stepped inside. She wore a knee length beige coat, a knitted white scarf, black boots which zipped up over black pants, and velvet gloves. With her back towards Renee, she only saw how her platinum hair curled around her shoulders, providing her ears some warmth. A short young man followed behind her quickly. He had on a plain black jacket, jeans, and what seemed to be running shoes. Renee couldn’t understand why someone would wear sneakers in these temperatures. Thick auburn hair curled out from his beanie, making him look sort of like an elf in a Christmas play. 

Noticeable scars covered both of his cheeks. On one side, flayed edges from a knife, and on the other, discolored circular burns. The man's piercing blue eyes met with Renee’s. Renee tensed, fisting the rag tightly. Something about him made Renee want to take Andrew and leave. She glanced to the counter where Andrew was rearranging the display case again. The blue eyed man followed her eyes. Renee felt an urge to shield Andrew from his gaze. 

“Good afternoon,” Renee stepped towards them as an introduction, forcing a smile. 

The redhead narrowed his brows at her. Renee didn’t miss the way he took a cautious step back. The blonde turned around. Renee was taken back for a moment. 

Her smile was infatuating. Deep red lipstick painted her lips, enhancing her white teeth even more so. Her gray irises looked Renee up and down once, then her smile relaxed into something else Renee couldn’t quite describe. 

She radiated confidence, like she knew that everyone stared at her when she entered a room. Her energy was loud and overwhelming, it being the only thing Rneee could focus on. Her legs were long, even though they were hidden under a coat, and so were her arms, her torso, her face, her hair. She was _tall_ and Renee felt like she was standing under a skyscraper, or a Redwood tree, looking up at an eighth wonder of the world.

Renee swallowed dryly under the weight of her stare. “It’s cold out there, isn’t it?” She mentally cursed herself for saying something so ridiculous and boring. 

The blonde only smiled, tilting her head. “It is,” she agreed. And oh, how her voice was enticing as well, deeper than Renee’s by an octave or two. 

Renee nodded, only then remembering why they were probably there. “I can help you at the counter,” she told them. 

“Perfect,” the blonde pulled her gloves off, revealing long and nimble fingers. 

Renee quickly walked behind the counter and stopped at the register. Andrew peered up at her from where he crouched behind the display case, an eyebrow raised in question. The man and woman were busy hanging up their coats. Renee ducked down to be level with Andrew. He raised one eyebrow and leaned away from Renee, although he didn’t stand or turn away. She deemed it okay for her to stay there, near him.

  
Renee shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She pressed her fingertips against the gold cross that was hidden under her shirt. Her pulse still beat at a fast rate, unsure if she should still take Andrew and leave, or stay just to hear that woman’s voice again. She thought to herself she was being childish. Plenty of beautiful women came in every day, this was no different. And yet, there Renee was, cowering behind a counter. 

“Renee,” Andrew said. 

His stern voice dragged Renee out from her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, Andrew’s were filled with something dangerous. 

“No,” Renee rushed to reassure him. “It’s not like that. No one I knew is here.”

They never shared much of their past together. Only snippets every now and then. Andrew, being Andrew, put the pieces together and understood without ever asking for more than she was willing to give. 

Andrew nodded, visibly relaxing. He said, “Then–“

Someone cleared their throat above them. They both froze, the same way little kids do when they’re caught doing something bad. Renee refused to move. Andrew rolled his eyes and stood, batting away Renee's hands. She watched him look over the counter curiously, then glance back down at Renee. The corner of his mouth tugged into a small, rare smirk. Renee reluctantly stood up as well. 

The blonde smiled when she saw Renee. “Oh, good,” she said. “I thought you’d run off.” 

“Of course not,” Renee smiled as well, unable to do anything else. 

There was an awkward beat of silence.

“Coffee?” Andrew asked the two. 

The redhead perked up. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take one.”

Andrew grabbed a to-go cup without asking if they were eating in, stuck one end of a sharpie between his teeth and pulled the cap off. He hovered the tip above the label and waited.

“Any milk?” Renee asked for Andrew. “Cream? Sugar?”

“No, thank you,” he said. “Black is fine.”

Renee thought nothing of it. Though Andrew must have because he sighed and scribbled “black” on the side. 

“And for you?” Renee turned to face her fully. She tried hard not to make her curiosity so pathetically obvious. 

The blonde hummed, tapping her maroon painted nails against the counter. She looked up at the menu, showing off her narrow neck. “Anything you can recommend?”

A jolt of excitement ran up Renee's spine at the offer. “Well,” she said. “What do you like?”

“Everything,” she grinned, her lip pulled between her teeth. 

Renee swallowed, “Perfect. Andrew–“

He was already writing down Renee's preferred coffee with a perfect memory: a simple caramel latte with an extra shot, two pumps of caramel, whipped cream and shaved chocolate. 

“Names?” Andrew mumbled with the cap still in his mouth.

“Oh,” the redhead hurried to speak but his friend cut him off with a hand on his arm.

“Allison,” she said.

Andrew nodded. He left to work on the drinks. 

“Would you like anything to eat, Allison?” Renee motioned towards the display case. Allison leaned forward as she took it all in. “I just made the muffins this morning. Milk chocolate chunks.”

“Sounds amazing,” she said. “We’ll take two.”

Renee grabbed a pair of tongs and a fresh paper bag. She puzzled over the best muffin, then plucked one from the middle, knowing Andrew was going to give her crap for it. 

“You know,” the redhead said, “I’m fine, Alli. I already–“

Allison smacked his bicep without ever facing him. Renee faltered just as she was about to grab a second muffin, confused if she should still take another or not. The man rubbed his arm with a frown. 

“He’s kidding,” Allison laughed it off. 

Renee smiled politely. She folded one end of the bag and smoothed a sticker over it. When she handed Allison the bag, their fingers brushed softly and Renee felt warmth spread through her. The two women stared at one another for another long moment before Renee broke eye contact. 

“That will be...” Renee quickly entered their order into the IPad above the register. She read the total, “Ninteen, eighty-two.”

The redhead frowned again, squinting at the menu. Renee waited for him to complain about the price, since most customers did their first time, but nothing came. Allison dug through her expensive looking purse, and pulled out an equally expensive wallet. Her card was black. Renee turned the iPad around. 

“Swipe on top,” Renee tapped on the card reader. 

Allison did as instructed. She pressed down on the screen, Renee knew it was asking for a tip, and signed her signature. Then she tapped once more as it asked for a copy of her receipt. 

“Thank you so much,” Renee said, her customer service script so engraved in her mind it was basically muscle memory now. She pulled a small white card out from an oversized mug that sat near the iPad, and quickly pressed a stamp on it twice. The stamp was shaped as a teacup with red ink. Renee slid it across the counter for them to take. “Would you want a frequent visitors card? After ten drinks, the eleventh is free.”

“We’re good,” the redhead answered. “We won’t be here long.”

Renee hid her disappointment well by continuing with the small talk, “Visiting, then?”

“We’re on a small business trip,” Allison nodded. “We’ll be in Chicago for about a month.”

Renee straightened her posture. A month is better than nothing. “Well, I hope I can see you again.”

“I hope so too,” Allison winked and Renee didn’t know if she had imagined that or not. 

Renee and the redhead both jumped when Andrew placed the two coffees on the counter. Allison handed her friend his drink. He wrapped his scared fingers around the cup. Renee quickly averted her stare, wondering if she had accidentally came off as judgmental. She was no stranger to scars, possessing some of her own that she kept hidden. 

“See you around, sweetie,” Allison said, wiggling her fingers as a goodbye wave. 

She dragged the man back to their coats, setting the drinks on a neighboring table as they shrugged on their winter gear. The bell rang as the door closed behind them. Renee watched Allison walk away until she disappeared from the window’s view.

“They’re trouble,” Andrew grunted, returning to his station. 

Renee didn't object. With the redhead’s scars, jumpy attitude, and Allison’s unwavering confidence and beauty, they were a duo that no doubt held power.

She sighed, leaning her hip against the counter as she watched Andrew clean. “I agree,” she told him. “She’s pretty, though.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I am observant.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” He wiped the counter with a sanitizer rag. 

“He was handsome, too,” Renee said in hopes of distracting Andrew from her own issues.

“They’re trouble,” he repeated himself.

Renee decided to help him clean instead of just watching. She filled the cups back to full stock. 

“They won’t be back,” Renee said, throat tight.

Andrew looked behind his shoulder, squinting at the counter. “She took it,” he said.

“What?” Renee spun around. He was right, of course. The frequent visitors card was gone. She felt a little giddy. 

“Shut up,” Andrew grabbed the cups from her hands.

“I didn’t say anything,” Renee said. She could hear the happiness, or was it pride, in her voice. 

Andrew narrowed his eyes, squinting at Renee’s face. She let him, as she’s never felt uncomfortable around Andrew. 

“Pathetic,” he concluded. 

The doorbell rang, and another round of people flooded the lobby. Renee would have to defend herself to Andrew later that night. Maybe over drinks, if Andrew felt up to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!! Sorry it’s a short-ish chapter, I was too excited to get something out for people to read.
> 
> I have no idea how long this will be, this fic is purely to indulge my own selfish gay needs. Leave a comment if you’d like to, I love reading what you all have to say.
> 
> See you soon! <3


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